


go together

by Amber



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chocolate Box Exchange, Chocolate Box Exchange 2019, F/M, Gen, Pre-Het, Treat, back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber/pseuds/Amber
Summary: "Oh," says Georgie matter-of-factly. "Sorry, yes. Try not to do this often. Don't really have the patter down." She smiles and takes his arm, and Tim can't really feel his body but he feels warm through regardless. "I'm bringing you back to life."





	go together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flammenkobold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flammenkobold/gifts).



"Right," says Georgie, "Well, here we are then."

Tim blinks. "And where is... here, exactly?"

Georgie gives a sheepish little grimace, because she's not sure how to explain this. "Um, we're sort of not really anywhere? Just... here."

"Oh," says Tim.

There's a pause, while he tries to process that. He looks tired, the kind of tired the Institute seems to pull out of people, and she feels sort of guilty for dragging him back like this. "Do you like cats?" she asks.

"What?" says Tim, snapping out of a daze, and then, warily, "Yes, I... I suppose."

Which means the next moment there's a big ginger tom winding his way around Tim's ankles. The Admiral purrs, and Tim bends down to pet him and, when that doesn't get him clawed to death, picks him up. The Admiral drapes contentedly over his shoulder, purring increasing in volume. 

"I feel like I know this cat," he says, bemused.

That makes Georgie laugh. "The Admiral? Maybe. I have it on good authority Jon likes to show everyone all the pictures he took of him.

"Jon..." says Tim, as though suddenly remembering the man's existence. He squints suddenly at Georgie, mistrustful. "You know Jon?"

"Yes," she answers. "He's why I'm here, actually. Favour for an old friend. Well. Ex."

"Ex!" Tim echoes. "Jon dates people!"

"Occasionally, yes," Georgie says primly. "Really not the time, Tim. Come on, we've got a lot to do."

"Do what?" asks Tim. "What are we—"

"Oh," says Georgie matter-of-factly. "Sorry, yes. Try not to do this often. Don't really have the patter down." She smiles and takes his arm, and Tim can't really feel his body but he feels warm through regardless. "I'm bringing you back to life."

* * *

"I'm a psychopomp," Georgie tells him. They're sitting in a bar, because Georgie had insisted a beer would be good for him, help with the transition. "At least, that's what I'd call it. It's not like it came with a job description." She looks at him like she's waiting for him to say something about that, and there is kind of a niggle but he's not sure why, and she sighs and lets it go. "You're taking this very well," she says.

"Shouldn't I be?"

Georgie doesn't answer at first, just looks down at the laminated menu before finally settling on a simple plate of chips and giving her order. "What do you remember about dying?"

Tim's brow creases. "Not much. It was loud? It — hurt?" His expression suddenly twists, upset, "Yeah, it really hurt."

Georgie snaps her fingers and he comes out of the shadowy memory of pain and back to her, blinking apologetically. "Sorry," she says. "Try not to think too hard about it. I think you might have a touch of amnesia, and... well, maybe that's a good thing? Protecting you from it all."

"From dying?"

"Yeah," says Georgie, bites her lip indecisively. "Yeah, that and other things. You were — you weren't very happy, when you died."

"I was angry at Jon," says Tim. "I sort of remember that."

"From what I've heard, you were... angry at a lot of things." Georgie runs a restless hand through her hair, elegant wristed. Tim wants it to be his hand; her hair looks soft.

"Well, right now I feel surprisingly content," Tim says, giving her a smile, and it coaxes her to smile in turn despite herself. "Though I could go another beer. Oi, bartender!"

* * *

"So why did you date Jon, anyway?" Tim asks, stealing a chip off Georgie's plate.

Her mouth pinches. "Not sure what you mean." 

"Yes you do." Tim points the chip at her. "I may not remember everything, but I remember he's a repressed arse, and you're lovely. Is that what you're into?"

Georgie rolls her eyes at him. "No," she says. "He was... maybe not sweeter, but different, when he was a bit younger. More hopeful. And he cared so much about me, even if he was bad at it."

"Right, somehow that sounds more like a pity-date than—"

"His voice," Georgie interrupts, talking over him before he can really offend her. But then her annoyance softens. "It was his voice. First time I heard it I thought he must be putting it on, and you know, maybe he does a bit. But only the accent, and only a little, and only ever to impress me. I didn't care about that. He has such a lovely voice. Have you ever heard him sing?"

"Jon sings?" Tim asks, startled.

Georgie laughs and nods. "Yes — and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't know it even if you had all your memory. He's shy about it."

"Wow, I really wish I'd met you earlier," Tim says sincerely. "I feel like I've missed so many opportunities to torment Jon."

Georgie smiles with a hint of something sad to it. The Admiral, who has been content to loaf beneath her stool, meows suddenly and hops up onto the bar. Georgie sighs, but doesn't push him off, just strokes his ginger fur.

"Hey," says Tim, because he's always been a sucker for girls with just a little bit of wistfulness about them. "What say we go out again tomorrow night, you and me? I can buy you dinner as thanks for bringing me back to life or whatever." He looks at the chip he still hasn't eaten, thin between forefinger and thumb. "I can still eat, right? I'm not a zombie or a vampire or any of that?"

"No," says Georgie, and then, "Sort of. It's complicated. But yeah, if you're staying in London, I should probably keep tabs on you. Make sure you adjust."

"So a date, then," Tim says, wanting that clear. 

Georgie shakes her head. "Come home with me and the Admiral. I— don't know that you have anywhere else to stay."

"Hang about," says Tim, "Just how long have I been dead."

* * *

Long enough his lease expired, as it turns out. Tim isn't sure how to feel about the fact that he's legally dead, that the people he knew must have grieved him and moved on. 

"It's good," Georgie tries to tell him. "It means... well, you can sort of start a new life. You don't even have to go back to the Archives, if you don't want."

"How will Jon cope without me?" he says dryly, and something guilty passes across Georgie's face. "What," he says interrogatively.

"It's just that — I don't think you should see Jon."

"Wasn't this a favour for him?"

"Yeah. Yes. And he knows about it, and he'll probably get me to tell him about, all of this, but... Tim, he wants you to be free of all that. He's felt so guilty about hiring you. Talking to him will just drag you right back into it."

"Into _what_ ," Tim says exasperatedly.

"Well," she says. "You remember what the Institute does. You know it's not natural to come back to life. You know you died horribly. That!"

Tim exhales slowly, and The Admiral picks his way across the bar and demands petting. "Right, so, I just what, leave the country or something? Go kayaking?"

That makes Georgie's lips twitch. "I mean, kayaking is pretty fun. There's just um... there's one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure we should get too far apart. I don't really know what I'm doing — what I've done." Tim raises an eyebrow at her. "Look, I'm not saying we have to walk around holding hands—"

"I wouldn't mind that, though," Tim informs her, and Georgie has to duck her head to hide her smile.

"What I mean is, I just don't ... if you leave the city, or the country, I should probably come too. In case you just." A vague gesture.

"Spontaneously die?" Tim asks dryly, and she laughs despite herself, but he can see that yes, that's basically it. "Well, that doesn't bother me. Not death, um. Taking you on holidays with me. We'll get to know each other. Might even be fun."

"Might even," Georgie agrees. The Admiral purrs.

* * *

"Er," says Tim as he looks at Georgie with her suitcases and cat carrier. "That's because you're dropping him off with Jon or something, right? We can't take the cat to Argentina."

"I don't know if you've noticed," Georgie informs him, "But the Admiral and I are basically inseparable. It's fine, I paid for his flight."

"I suppose we all go together then," says Tim, taking one of her suitcases like a gentleman.

"That's the idea," agrees Georgie.


End file.
